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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134602">and the universe said—</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/verecundiam/pseuds/verecundiam'>verecundiam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Gratuitous use of italics, Panic Attacks, all the warnings from ranboo’s lore streams, it fits so well, minecraft end poem, some time traveler Karl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/verecundiam/pseuds/verecundiam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“This land is no place for us, halfling,”</em> the enderman says, and it affectionately threads its long fingers through Ranboo’s hair. <em>“No home for us.”</em></p><p>“I’ll make it one,” Ranboo decides. </p><p>
  <em>“How are you going to do that?”</em>
</p><p>“I’m going to build an ice-cream shop,” he says cheerfully. </p><p>(aka: a story of making friends and losing them, of making up your mind and losing that too, and of universes that are kind.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Niki | Nihachu &amp; Ranboo, Ranboo &amp; Endermen, Ranboo &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and the universe said—</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>[Take a breath, now.]</em>
</p><p>
  <em>[Take another.]</em>
</p><p>
  <em>[Once upon a time, there was a player.]</em>
</p><p>------------</p><p>The flurry of people that Ranboo meets when he joins the SMP is overwhelming at best, terrifying at worst, but... also pretty good. It’s mostly good. He can stick with Tubbo and Niki throughout it all, and he can write it all down in his book, so it’s fine, and... kind of exciting. </p><p>------------</p><p>There’s Tommy, all fire and blue eyes and scarred hands and fury, staring up at Ranboo with something like indignation at his lanky frame and nervous disposition and general... height. Ranboo tries to explain the enderman half of him, but Tommy’s just not having it. </p><p><em>(That means he likes you,</em> Tubbo whispers with a fond grin and a shake of his head.)</p><p>Fundy is... odd and off-putting, at first, but Niki reassures him that Fundy’s just like that, and it quickly proves true when they actually start talking and it turns out that Fundy’s hilarious, and seems to think that Ranboo’s hilarious too, and it’s all great and good and Ranboo gets to ride the high of having a new friend for a while. </p><p>There’s Sapnap and George, two-thirds of a whole and attached at the hip, and Quackity, who, quite frankly, terrifies Ranboo completely and utterly. </p><p>Karl Jacobs smiles at him, wide and cheerful and empty and like something misplaced and gone and forgotten and wrong wrong wrong wrong <em>wrong wrong WRONG—</em></p><p>[What was that?]</p><p>[Uh. Sorry.]</p><p>[It was probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.]</p><p>There’s Antfrost, who silently gives him a golden apple, and Ranboo happily gives him a stick of bamboo in return. This is totally friendship. It counts. </p><p>Punz seems to be out to get him, but that’s... fine, probably. </p><p>And there are so, so many others. Ranboo’s head is spinning with the amount of introductions by the end of the day, but there’s also Philza (written down a while ago as a Maybe Friend alongside Tubbo) and an empty house already built, so it’s... it’s good. So far, so good. Yes! Okay. </p><p>------------</p><p>He’s wandering, for now. He has a few scattered plans and ideas but nothing solid, so he’s focusing on remembering people and places, sorting them out in his book. </p><p>Niki smiles at him like something bright and tired and makes promises that she can’t keep, but Ranboo tries to believe her anyway because her name has stayed in the Friends category for months, longer than anyone ever has. </p><p>(A fuzzy memory—laughing in the suffocating heat of the nether, calling for help through stifled giggles, a man with wings and a reassuring smile.)</p><p>There’s a faint smell of ozone in the air, and Ranboo shudders. Makes sure his helmet is within arms reach, just in case it starts to rain. </p><p>------------</p><p>There are lots of endermen here—more than Ranboo was expecting, considering how many pearls these people seem to have. Most of them greet him with a <em>“Hello, halfling,”</em> or a pat on the head, and leave him be. </p><p>One of them teleports right next to him in a shower of violet, and had Ranboo not felt his own pearl react to the gathering of energy, he would’ve been scared out of his skin. </p><p><em>“This land is no place for us, halfling,”</em> the enderman says, and it affectionately threads its long fingers through Ranboo’s hair. <em>“No home for us.”</em></p><p>“I’ll make it one,” Ranboo decides. </p><p>
  <em>“How are you going to do that?” </em>
</p><p>“I’m going to build an ice-cream shop,” he says cheerfully. </p><p>The enderman cocks its head, bemused. And then it laughs—a high, wheezing, choking sound—and does its best impression of a smile. </p><p><em>“You are good, halfling,” </em>it says. It gives Ranboo one last pat on the head before it teleports away with a scattering of purple particles. </p><p>“Oh! Well. He was nice,” Ranboo says to no one in particular. “I think that’s like, a good sign or something.”</p><p><em>(You are good, </em>Edward whispers as Ranboo shakes himself apart in Technoblade’s living room. </p><p><em>I’m not,</em> Ranboo whispers back. <em>I’m not, I’m not, I’m not. I can’t be. Not if I did—all that.</em></p><p><em>If you cannot trust your judgement, trust mine,</em> Edward gently pokes his forehead with a long finger. <em>You are good.) </em></p><p>------------</p><p>George’s house burns, and some part of Ranboo likes the fire, wants to cheer along with Tommy, but most of him hates that he’s here. Most of him wants to go home. He just wants to go home. </p><p>(L’manberg is a crater, and he wonders if this is karma.)</p><p>------------</p><p>Tommy takes the blame for him without hesitation, and it rips the air from Ranboo’s lungs, has him scribbling Tommy’s name under Friends right underneath Niki and Tubbo before he hugs the book to his chest and tries to not shake too obviously. </p><p>No one’s ever done anything like that for him before. No one, ever. He can’t breathe.</p><p>He can’t breathe.</p><p>------------</p><p>And then Tommy is gone gone gone gone gone and the obsidian walls are gone but they’re still there, they’re still there keeping Tubbo from Tommy and Tommy from Tubbo and compasses aren’t enough, Ranboo knows.</p><p>He tries. </p><p>He tries as hard as he can to be a friend, to be enough, to be a friend to everyone—everyone—he has to, because—because—</p><p>------------</p><p>Because sides are the problem, not the people,  and Dream is the reason, not anyone else, and Ranboo clings to this epiphany with everything he has. </p><p>------------</p><p>The axe in his hand is heavy and he doesn’t want it. Quackity’s eyes are brilliant and intense and they are reminiscent of something and familiar to someone and alive and dead all at the same time. </p><p>And he says, those eyes fever-bright, “Don’t betray us.”</p><p>And Ranboo says, with terror and confusion and his own kind of loyalty, “I won’t.”</p><p>------------</p><p>And was it a betrayal? </p><p>Was it a betrayal, to give Technoblade his armor back? To laugh and joke with Tommy and Techno in the snowy forest? Was it a betrayal?</p><p>Because—because Ranboo was threatened, right? </p><p>...He wasn’t threatened into staying, though. </p><p>He wanted to stay. </p><p>That’s a betrayal. That’s definitely a betrayal. Ranboo’s a traitor. </p><p><em>(You are good,</em> Edward whispers. <em>Have faith.)</em></p><p>A traitor to who, though? To Tubbo? Maybe. To Fundy? Maybe? To Quackity? Definitely. </p><p><em>(Breathe, halfling.</em> An enderman in the caves he’s mining in curls its long hand over Ranboo’s shoulder. <em>Breathe. You are good.)</em></p><p>Is he a traitor to L’manberg? Probably. </p><p>But does that matter?</p><p>It... it has to matter, right?</p><p>Right?</p><p>------------</p><p>The panic room is supposed to help. It doesn’t help, but at least he can panic without anyone hearing, so it serves its purpose. </p><p>------------</p><p>He still talks to Tommy and Techno. He shouldn’t. He can’t. </p><p>He does. </p><p>------------</p><p>How did Dream get the book?</p><p>How did he get the book?</p><p>How?</p><p>Ranboo practically sleeps with the thing, how did he take it? How did he change it? It doesn’t make any sense, none of this makes any sense, his own head doesn’t MAKE ANY <em>SENSE—</em></p><p>------------</p><p>:)</p><p>------------</p><p>He can’t BREATHE HE CAN’T BREATHE HE CAN’T—</p><p>WHY WON’T THEY STOP <em>LOOKING</em> AT HIM—</p><p>HE KNOWS HE’S WRONG HE KNOWS THE PIECES ARE ALL MISSING AND JUMBLED AND WRONG WRONG WRONG SO WHY WON’T THEY STOP <em>LOOKING—</em></p><p>
  <em>[and the—]</em>
</p><p>
  <em>[and the universe]</em>
</p><p>
  <em>[and the universe said—]</em>
</p><p>
  <em>[and the universe said—]</em>
</p><p>[i’m sorry]</p><p>------------</p><p>He goes to his panic room but Dream is in his ears, taunting and echoing and laughing and every word digs deeper and deeper and deeper and shreds and tears out more and more and more pieces of him until he is nothing but static and tears stinging against his skin, trailing burns down his face. </p><p>He didn’t he didn’t he didn’t he didn’t he didn’t do any of that he didn’t he <em>couldn’t—</em></p><p>The Dream that had greeted him at the SMP’s border was serious, impassive, and with a undercurrent of (a gaping, heaving expanse of <em>NOTHING AT ALL</em> where there should’ve been oak trees and oceans and blood) something more that Ranboo couldn’t quite put his finger on, contrasting wildly with his blandly-smiling mask and sunny blonde hair. He had been jarring, for sure, a bit discomfiting, but he hadn’t been—he hadn’t—he hadn’t been <em>this.</em> Right?</p><p>
  <em>[This player—]</em>
</p><p>[Dream? Are you there?]</p><p>
  <em>[This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.]</em>
</p><p>[Where are you, Dream? Where did you go?]</p><p>------------</p><p>And then Dream is just—gone. He wasn’t real. </p><p>Was he?</p><p>He had to have been real, because Ranboo heard him, heard his voice, but now he’s gone and so is any sense of stability that Ranboo’s ever had because it wasn’t real. </p><p>It couldn’t have been real. </p><p>So is anything—is anything—</p><p>Is any of it real?</p><p>Yes, yes, it has to be real, because he leaves the panic room and there is Tubbo and Niki and Fundy and Tommy and Philza and sometimes even Technoblade, and they are solid, stable things, even if Ranboo isn’t. </p><p>(But the pieces are still missing. Beyond his reach.)</p><p>He takes a shuddering breath and curls his fingers in Enderchest’s fur, tries to make his hair cover his eyes in a halfhearted attempt to hide the burns. </p><p>
  <em>[Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe.]</em>
</p><p>It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s all fine. </p><p>It’s fine.</p><p>It’s—</p><p>It’s fine. </p><p>------------</p><p>The sky is falling down, and Technoblade tells him to run. </p><p><em>(You’re a good kid,</em> Techno shrugs.)</p><p><em>(You are good,</em> Edward whispers.)</p><p>He stays back, because he is determined now in his stance on <em>people</em> not places or sides, but he watches, because this is what he deserves. His house caves in, and this is what he deserves, this great desolation and destruction.</p><p>By the end of it all, there is no one written under Friends, and there is nothing left of L’manberg but a crater. </p><p>There is nothing left of L’manberg but a crater, and—and he’s not even that upset about it?</p><p>What is <em>wrong</em> with him?</p><p>------------</p><p>L’manberg is a crater and Ranboo sees Karl Jacobs stand at the edge of it, too bright and too dim and too sad and too wrong, wrong, it’s all wrong, he’s a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong place and he IS WRONG AND <em>WRONG AND WRONG AND GONE AND—</em></p><p>And... gone.</p><p>He’s gone? </p><p>[Sorry about that. Moving on.]</p><p>------------</p><p>Philza reaches out a hand and offers him a home, because if he can’t save his own sons, he’s going to save someone else’s.</p><p>Ranboo takes it, because even if the snow burns sometimes, at least it’s quiet. Even if Technoblade did the wrong thing, at least he believed in it. Even if Philza failed, at least he tried. </p><p>------------</p><p>He holds the TNT in his hands and shakes. His face burns and burns and burns and he can’t see straight and this can’t be real this can’t be real none of this is real he’s hallucinating he’s dead he’s dreaming he’s alive and awake and it’s real and it isn’t. </p><p>[remember]</p><p>There’s nothing to remember, he didn’t, he <em>couldn’t—</em></p><p>[remember]</p><p>There’s a gaping void in his head and it is all-consuming and everything burns—</p><p>[remember]</p><p>He <em>can’t.</em></p><p>------------</p><p>
  <em>[You. You. You are alive.]</em>
</p><p>[It doesn’t feel like it.]</p><p>
  <em>[Once upon a time—]</em>
</p><p>------------</p><p>There’s a disc in his hands hand he’s holding it so tightly it might shatter.</p><p>No, no, no, no no <em>no no no no nonononono—</em></p><p>Please. Please, no.</p><p>Please. </p><p>Please don’t let this be <em>real—</em></p><p>He drops the disc and digs his fingernails into his arms, hard, and it hurts and hurts and his face burns. Everything is all too real and he aches with it. </p><p>
  <em>Please, no.</em>
</p><p>And he aches and aches and aches without air in his lungs until he doesn’t feel anything anymore, choking out a call for help in a language he hardly uses anymore. </p><p>
  <em>[It cannot read that thought.]</em>
</p><p>------------</p><p>Ranboo steps through the portal to the prison with everyone else, because Dream is the reason and Tommy and Tubbo are in danger. </p><p>
  <em>[This player dreamed]</em>
</p><p>But instead of a bloody battle, it’s just... Dream.</p><p>
  <em>[of sunlight and trees.]</em>
</p><p>Just Dream, against every member of the SMP. Exactly as it should be. Everyone against the only true evil that this place has ever seen. </p><p>
  <em>[Of fire and water.]</em>
</p><p>He’s still talking (and Ranboo just wants him to shut up, both in and out of his head—)</p><p>
  <em>[It dreamed it created.]</em>
</p><p>—But he’s backing away. Cornered like a frightened animal as Tommy makes him toss his armor into a hole, as everyone watches with a vicious kind of satisfaction because it’s exactly what he deserves. </p><p>
  <em>[And it dreamed it destroyed.]</em>
</p><p>And Tommy swings his axe into Dream’s neck, plunges a sword into his chest, and he bleeds just like anyone would. </p><p>
  <em>[It dreamed it hunted]</em>
</p><p>“Tommy, I can bring people back to life!” </p><p>
  <em>[and was hunted.]</em>
</p><p>It’s a gamble that leaves Dream with a life of imprisonment, but it still leaves him his life. </p><p>
  <em>[It dreamed of shelter.]</em>
</p><p>And Dream—Dream, the villain, the bad guy, the (empty empty empty empty where are the forests and oceans and blood and skies and storms and everything that is this world that was once loved) reason, the reason, the reason, he’s finally gone. He’s led away deeper and deeper into the blackstone prison and he is gone. </p><p>[It dreamed of home.]</p><p>------------</p><p>But here’s the thing—</p><p>Dream took the blame for the community house. </p><p>It shouldn’t bother Ranboo as much as it does. It makes more sense for Dream to have blown it up, after all. </p><p>But Ranboo has all the evidence that he did it himself, is the thing. He has the TNT, the disc. </p><p>And—</p><p>And then there is music in his head and IT <em>WON’T GO AWAY—</em></p><p>He’s back at the panic room and he’s relieved beyond words and terrified beyond reason that there is no voice, there is no Dream, there is only the music in his ears and his head that still won’t <em>STOP—</em></p><p>He tears out the smiling page of his book. He’s done. He’s done, he’s done, he’s done. </p><p>[Ranboo is free.]</p><p>------------</p><p>
  <em>[I will not tell the player how to live.]</em>
</p><p>[It isn’t over.]</p><p>
  <em>[I will tell the player a story.]</em>
</p><p>[It isn’t over.]</p><p>
  <em>[But not the truth.]</em>
</p><p>------------</p><p>An enderman comes up to him as he walks the hills just outside of the SMP proper. </p><p><em>“Hello, halfling,”</em> it greets. </p><p>“Hi,” Ranboo mutters, weakly. </p><p><em>“Are you happy, halfling?”</em> It cocks its head to the side, eyes glowing violet against its dark skin. </p><p>“Fine, fine,” Ranboo tries to wave it off.</p><p><em>“Here,”</em> the enderman says. Ranboo watches it as it picks up a block of grass. <em>“Hold out your hands.”</em></p><p>Ranboo does.</p><p>It drops the grass into his hands. </p><p><em>“Feel better,”</em> the enderman nods. </p><p>“I don’t—“ Ranboo starts, and then stops. Because this grass belongs somewhere, doesn’t it? It has a proper place. Like the chests and furnaces and crafting tables in his house and all the pieces of his attempted constructs, every block has a specific place it belongs, and it needs to go there. </p><p>“Oh,” he whispers. “Um. This one goes here.” He places it down a few blocks away, and once the grass is in its rightful place, it just—it feels right. It feels right in a way that—that nothing has before. “Oh.”</p><p>The enderman nods, enthusiastically. <em>“Try this!” </em></p><p>It points to another patch of grass. </p><p>Ranboo reaches for it, but it crumbles to dirt in his hands. The disappointment he feels is cold and bad and altogether unexpected. </p><p>“Sorry,” he sighs. “I don’t think I can do that.”</p><p><em>“Try again,”</em> the enderman insists. <em>“Be gentle.”</em></p><p>It takes a few tries. Actually, it takes way more than a few tries. But eventually Ranboo is holding a lumpy block of grass in his hand, whole and un-crumbled, and he can’t help the sudden spike of joy that has him laughing, breathlessly. </p><p><em>“Yes!”</em> the enderman exclaims. </p><p>“This one goes over here!” Ranboo rushes over to the side of a nearby hill and slots the grass into its rightful place. </p><p><em>“Perfect,”</em> the enderman nods. </p><p>“Um—why?” Ranboo asks, suddenly. “Why did you... I mean. Thank you—thank you very, very much—but—why go through all this, all this... effort?”</p><p><em>“You are good,”</em> it says, and it offers no further explanation before teleporting away. </p><p>
  <em>[Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?]</em>
</p><p>------------</p><p>“Nooooooooo,” Technoblade cries, and Philza cackles. “He’s the main character, Phil!”</p><p>Ranboo raises an eyebrow, steering his boat closer to Techno. “I don’t think—“</p><p>“Wait, wait, wait—I can be the—the cool sensei! Wait, no, the mentor always dies! Nooooo!” </p><p>Philza sounds like he’s struggling for air and Ranboo’s not much better. He tries to offer solutions but all of them end in Technoblade’s dramatic death for character development purposes. </p><p>Ranboo’s laughter cuts short and his boat slows to a halt as he sees the island and the stone cross atop it. </p><p>They’re completely silent for a moment, staring at the structure that looks suspiciously like a gravestone, and that can’t be natural, can’t it?</p><p>“No! The foreshadowing! Nooooooooooo!” Techno wails, and Ranboo laughs so hard his lungs ache. </p><p>------------</p><p>Sam is quiet and reassuring as he leads Ranboo through the prison, through all the necessary bits and steps to get to Dream. </p><p>He doesn’t want to do this. He has to do this. </p><p>The bubbling lava drips down to cover the entrance, and then Ranboo is alone. He is alone with Dream. </p><p>
  <em>[and the universe said I love you]</em>
</p><p>“We’re best friends,” Dream smiles, and that’s not right at all. </p><p>
  <em>[and the universe said you are not alone]</em>
</p><p>“Why are you acting different?” Dream asks, and Ranboo tries, he does. He tries to make a stand and tries to hold his ground and tries to believe that he is himself—</p><p><em>[and the universe said</em> i’m sorry, i’m so sorry]</p><p>“I’m not even real,” Dream chuckles, and then he isn’t. </p><p><em>[and the universe said </em>you are good]</p><p>No. No no, no no nonono please, please <em>please please</em> he got rid of the voice he got rid of the voice he <em>got rid of it</em></p><p>[hello?]</p><p>Dream is gone and was never there at all and it’s not real and it’s too real and </p><p>[can you hear me?]</p><p>He can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe</p><p>[please—]</p><p>The ceiling falls in. </p><p>
  <em>[wake up]</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you enjoyed :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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